Was It Good for You?
by Lif61
Summary: With Sam, Dean, and Toni trapped in the bunker awaiting certain death, the Winchester brothers agree to take guarding her in shifts throughout the night. It's Sam's turn and Toni is bored. TAKES PLACE DURING 12x22 "Who We Are"


**A/N: Yes, this is yet another story about Sam and consent issues. It's just one of my favorite things to write about given how intriguing all his emotions are.**

 **TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of rape.**

* * *

Sam Winchester didn't fear death. He'd faced it before, had seen it all around him, and he knew that death was a mercy compared to some of the evils in the world. But Sam feared that impending last struggle for breath as he was robbed of oxygen inside the bunker, his home. Going out the same way he felt he'd lived most of his life didn't suit him. He was sick of being trapped, being helpless. And it was who he was trapped with that made it even worse: Toni, his most recent torturer.

During that first day in the dark with the faint, red emergency lights, Sam had stayed as close to Dean as possible, and he tried to stay on the edges of any room that he occupied with Toni. She didn't hurt him again, but that didn't matter. Having been hurt and violated by her before was enough to make him wish he never had to see her face again, never had to hear her voice again.

He wasn't ready to die like this, to share his final moments with that vile woman. But here he was, working with her because he had no other choice.

Sam and Dean had decided to stay awake in shifts throughout the night. Whoever was awake was tasked with watching Toni and with trying to figure out a way out of there. Dean had his shift first, but sleep eluded Sam. Worry gnawed at his stomach till it hurt, and fear had sunk its ice cold claws into his heart. In just a few hours, Dean would be asleep, and he'd be left virtually alone with _her_.

It was almost funny how his past came to bite him in the ass right before the end, as if to say there was no escaping what he'd been through. But of course that's how it was. It was ridiculous for him to have even hoped for anything else.

When Dean came to get him in the early hours of the morning, Sam was already sitting on his bed, every muscle rigid as he awaited the inevitable.

"Did you get _any_ sleep?" Dean asked him.

The lie came easily. "Yeah."

His brother shrugged tiredly and stifled a yawn. "Well, all right then. Good luck with Miss Crazy." He started shuffling away, but then he leaned back in. "Oh, and I already told her that if she touches you there's no way I'm letting her walk. She does anything, you let me know."

Sam nodded his head in acknowledgement and then rose. Dean headed off to bed, and Sam forced himself to go to the library. Each step was a struggle that seemed to last a lifetime rather than a mere fraction of a second.

When he entered he spotted her lithe form curled up in a leather armchair tucked into the corner, her blonde hair draped down over her shoulder. She shifted and Sam's heart began to beat with the force of a bass drum during a crescendo, his insides nearly hurting.

 _It's okay, Sam,_ he told himself. _She's asleep. She can't hurt you when she's asleep._

Sam pulled out a chair and sat down in it as quietly as he could. He rubbed at his tired eyes and then focused his attention on the notebook and pen Dean had left out to jot down their thoughts and ideas about finding an escape.

It was open, and the page it was opened to showed what had no doubt earlier been Dean's notes. But now they were all crossed out and slashed over in a fit of frustration.

He flipped to the next page, and then tried to think. Magic hadn't worked, so surely nothing else would.

 _No. Can't think like that. I'm not gonna die in here with_ her _._

Sam's tired mind wandered and drew him back to the spell he'd used to purify the blood they'd mixed together to use for that other spell. He wondered if it was possible to purify blood while it was in someone, to purify an entire person. There was a flicker of an image in his mind of a candlelit bedroom, white sheets, and Toni lying naked beside him. The image was gone before it could drag him down for him to get lost in. Then he decided, that even though Toni hadn't violated him physically and she'd forced it into his head, purifying himself was still worth a try. If he lived through this he'd have to look into it.

Toni's voice, with her accent that would be pleasant to anyone but him, snapped him back to reality, "So Dean's shift is over then?"

He jumped, a spark of terror shooting through his spine, and lifted up his head to face her. She was sitting up in her chair now, her legs crossed as she eyed him.

"Yeah."

"Oh good, he's so dull. I'm not sure there's even a brain in him."

Anger flared inside of Sam at her insult, especially since it was something he often heard in regards to Dean, but he pushed it down. Though the glare he directed at her probably clued her in to what he was thinking.

"Why are you talking to me?" he asked bluntly.

She shrugged. "Boredom, curiosity. There's not really much else to do, is there?"

"You could shut your mouth and leave me alone," Sam suggested.

"Interesting," Toni commented. Her intent gaze gave Sam the impression that she could hear his thoughts, head the turmoil and the agony. It wasn't as if she hadn't been in his head before. "Big brother goes away and now you're all frightened."

"I'm not," he spat.

She raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, "No?"

"No. News flash, Toni, you're not the first person to torture me."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh god, are you going to start talking about the Devil again?"

A different kind of fear took hold of Sam from her words, from the memories they stirred. It was as if he stood before a great chasm, the bottom hidden in the dark depths of the void. It clawed at him, trying to drag him in. But Sam forced himself away from it, forced himself to his current reality.

"Funny," he told her in a tight voice, willing the tense muscles in his face to form a smile.

It only held for a second before crumbling away into dust.

"This must seem mad to you," she began. "Nearing the end, and you're stuck with me."

"It's definitely not what I pictured," Sam commented.

"Of course it's not. I bet you wanted to go out fighting."

"And you don't?"

"I didn't say that. This… situation is painful to me as well."

Sam shook his head, and was on his feet before he even thought about it. "No, I don't want to hear about your damn feelings. I don't know if you're trying to earn my sympathy or what, but you _don't_ deserve it."

A flicker of emotion passed through Toni's blue eyes, and then she smiled. "And the beast shows itself," she mused.

Sam rushed around the table and grabbed her throat in one hand, lifting her to her feet. She let out a choked cry of alarm, and grabbed at his wrist in an attempt to get him to let go.

"Stop whatever you're trying to do," Sam snarled. "I'm not a toy to be played with, and I'm not here for your own personal amusement. If you have something important to say, say it. If not, then you can keep your damned mouth shut."

"You never… answered my... question," she gasped out.

Sam frowned in confusion, his brow furrowing. "What question?"

She smiled, and it unnerved Sam so much that he released her and faltered back. She rubbed at her throat, and then he started to worry if there would be bruises for Dean to see when he awoke. No, most likely not. He hadn't put enough pressure to really hurt her.

When she caught her breath she asked, "Was it good for you?"

Sam's breath caught in his throat and his heart seemed to stop, his insides turning to liquid. Hot and cold began a war within his body as memories dragged him off, kicking and screaming.

He hurt everywhere. His muscles ached and screamed from how tense the cold water had made them, his burned foot seemed like it was still on fire, the bullet hole in his leg stabbed through him, his broken ribs throbbed with each fearful, pained breath, with each beat of his heart, the slashes on his face and chest begged for attention with an unyielding flare of agony, and exhaustion clouded his mind and turned his strained body into what felt like an immovable mass.

Flashes of Jess' body on the ceiling amidst a swath of hungry orange flame, of burning Kevin's eyes out, of nearly beating Dean to death, filled his mind. His guilt, his regrets, his fears, his grief, weighed him down, like a boat taking on water as it sank into unforgiving, dark depths.

An ache of desire that twisted his stomach into hopeless knots took hold of his body, running along his spine, heating his blood till he was lost to it. Pleasure as searing as a hot flame washed over him as Toni touched his naked, vulnerable body, as she manipulated him into taking her.

Then, everything started blurring together, and Sam didn't know where he was. He couldn't see, couldn't feel. There was just the memories.

 _No! This isn't happening! I've already been through this. I don't need to go through it again._

Pressure. He felt pressure, a solidity of a floor beneath his feet, and Sam focused on it through the whirlwind of fear and torment. The flashbacks dissipated the longer he focused, and then he was back to himself again, in the bunker.

His chest heaved, and he began trying to ease his panicked breaths. Sam was still standing, which surprised him a great deal given all he'd just felt. Sweat trickled uncomfortably down the side of his neck, soaking into his shirt. He was looking at Toni with wide eyes, and something told him that she understood what he'd just done.

"It wasn't just the potion that messed with your head, Sam," she explained as if this had no emotional significance whatsoever. "I had to monitor you, make sure you were traveling along the right path."

"Wha- what are you saying?"

"I was _there_ , Sam."

His entire body shook and he collapsed into his chair, too terrified to take his eyes off her.

"I remember the way you moved your body, the sounds you made, the way you felt. I'll give you this, you're better than Ketch."

"Why?"

She frowned as she asked, "Why what?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" he questioned, his voice quiet and broken.

"Like I said earlier, boredom," she answered simply. "Human minds are just so fascinating, and yours is maybe even more intriguing than your mother's."

A lump of emotion formed in Sam's throat from everything she was saying to him. His eyes glistened from unshed tears, but he would not cry in front of her. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"That's it," he said, getting to his feet. "I'm gonna go wake up Dean."

"Running your brother?" she taunted. "Pity. I had thought you were stronger than that."

That made Sam settle back down again. He _was_ stronger than that. He was! And would Dean even understand? Would he be disappointed in him?

Sam cleared his throat, and finally managed to tear his eyes away from her. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he did so, but he was done talking to her, done letting her manipulate him. Somehow, he was going to find a way out of here, and he was going to be free of her.


End file.
